


Here's To You, Drew Davenport

by Hekaerge-Athenias (Athenias)



Series: Places We Never Meant To Be [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Crack Treated Seriously, Crew as Family, F/F, F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Kinda, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Istus/The Raven Queen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Team as Family, The Elven Gap Year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:58:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23850427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athenias/pseuds/Hekaerge-Athenias
Summary: Captain Davenport has a mission, assigned by Lord Artemis Sterling himself: bring order to the chaos across Faerun by any means necessary. Davenport, of course, decides the best course of action is to enlist a high school counselor and five of his ex-students. For some reason, they accept. He doesn't expect much from them, apart from a job completed in one sense or another.In retrospect, he probably should have lowered his standards from the get-go.(Can be read as a stand-alone or a prequel to "Are you There, Istus? It's Me, Taako")
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans & Magnus Burnsides & Davenport & Merle Highchurch & Lucretia & Lup & Taako, Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Davenport/Merle Highchurch, IPRE Crew | Starblaster Crew & Angus McDonald, Julia Burnsides/Magnus Burnsides, Lup & Taako (The Adventure Zone), Magnus Burnsides & Merle Highchurch & Taako
Series: Places We Never Meant To Be [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718587
Comments: 13
Kudos: 12





	Here's To You, Drew Davenport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So, we should split up, cover as much territory as we can."
> 
> “That's literally how every horror movie starts, Taako,” Magnus says. Taako raises his brows at him, unimpressed.

In his time spent as a high school counselor (one of the worst career moves of his life, according to himself, John, and Hekuba), Merle started what Davenport calls a ‘collection’. Now, he didn’t exactly mean to start one in the first place, but Barry had been all alone those twenty-odd years ago, so he’d just sorta… sat with him for a bit. It became a daily routine of sorts over the rest of his time in high school and, shit, Merle kinda liked the kid, so he kept in contact. Which was a fuckin nightmare of a thing to do, considering his work as a necromancer sent him running around Faerun like a chicken with its head cut off.

Lup and Taako, on the other hand, well, Merle'd be lying if he said he didn't reach out on purpose. It was hard not to when he kept noticing how skinny they were, how they’d snip at anyone that came too close, and kept mostly to themselves. No parents of any sort showed up to anything of theirs, and, well, that’s just not right, is it, so Merle went instead. Lup had almost cried at the off-handed way he’d said: “well if you need family, you don’t gotta look far”. Although records vary, he’d say Taako wiped away a tear here and there, too. They met Barry shortly after they graduated, and, predictably, got on like wildfire.

Then, of course, came Magnus (who seemed adamant that Taako didn’t actually mean to punch him in the face (he did)), and then Lucretia, after those three graduated, and all of the five of ‘em were thick as thieves after years of constantly running into each other. By the time Lucretia graduated, someone was always coming in and out of Merle’s house— Hekuba’s, now that the divorce was through. he’s been looking for a new place. Anyway, more often than not, Davenport was there, too.

So it didn’t come as a surprise to him, not really, that the moment he heard back from Neverwinter, Davenport called for a group meeting. 

・・・★・・・

“There’s no official name yet,” Davenport says, by way of introduction. He’s holding a cardboard box and struggles with it before Magnus strolls on into the garage and takes it from him effortlessly. It clatters onto the workbench noisily as he awkwardly sets it down. With his hands freed, Davenport rubs his hands together and looks around the room with bright, crinkled eyes. “But you’ve all been watching the news. The rest of the world's sort of a mess right now.”

Merle’s been watching the news. Bottlenose Cove has been the only city left untouched; the rest of Faerun is overrun by plagues, war, tyrants, and recently unearthed relics. Barry's job working alongside archeologists turned to Bodyguard protection, and Taako and Lup came back from a summer of hitchhiking skittish. It was chaos, in the biblical sense, and it was only by the resurgence of adventurers that they’d managed to keep the worst at bay. He hadn’t been worried, at first, when it was just a murder here or there.

And then Hekuba had come home from a long shift as an EMT, trembling and hollowed-eyed. She had pulled her mask down to her chin and in a small voice, told Merle that she quit. It was the first full sentence she had said to him since they'd started the divorce process. 

Nothing shook Hekuba, in the years that Merle knew her. Getting called to the site of a suicide only got her to sigh, deranged psych admittees hardly earned a groan. She was stoic, excellent at her job because of how well she could compartmentalize, so that begs the question— what did she _see_? How many people had to die before she decided it was too much of a burden to bear?

After that, well. It’s no surprise that Merle started asking himself when it would end. Pan had no answers, either. Whatever it was, the ball was in Istus’s court now.

Davenport wanders over to the box, inspecting the contents. “Sterling’s given me the funding necessary for this… expedition provided that I find willing volunteers dedicated to fixing this world. It’s no small task, obviously, but I believe with _certainty_ that with your help, your minds, we can do it.” And it’s not the words that he says that leads everyone (or, well, everyone but Taako) to lean closer to him, but the conviction and faith dripping off of every word. It’s part of why they became friends so quickly; he was so earnest that you’d believe pigs could fly if he asked them to. Hard to not like a guy like that. When he turns back around, his eyes are sparkling. “What do you say?”

Lup, surprisingly, is the first one to speak. “I’m in.” Taako startles from where he was dozing on one of the shelves, looking at his sister with abject horror before he schools his features, and gently kicks her thigh. She scoffs, before amending, “ _We’re_ in.”

Barry is watching her with those doe eyes he’s been training on her for the past four years, so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that his smile serves as a resounding yes. Taako would go wherever Lup went because she’s all he has, but Barry would do it just for a chance to be near her. Magnus and Lucretia were in from the moment Davenport had mentioned helping to fix things in Faerun, possessed by this frenzied obsession to do right.

So what the hell is everyone looking at Merle for?

Davenport twitches his mustache, the light in his eyes dimming and his whole face going soft. “Merle, you don’t have to come. I know how much your kids mean to you but I couldn’t _not_ give you the—“

The door to the garage slams open, the twins flinching instinctively. Merle sighs, actively turning his head from Hekuba as she stares Davenport down. “He’s going,” she says, voice scratchy. “You need someone who can heal, and he knows enough to get you by.”

“Hekuba, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“Well, I’m offering.” And it shouldn’t hurt, the way that she sighs like she’s been beaten, but it _does_ and Merle feels, inexplicably, like apologizing for being in the room. “At least then he’ll be able to do something good.”

After Hekuba leaves, Davenport shows them the contents of the box. It’s a bunch of crimson uniforms he passes out with ease and some fancy glowing orb he calls a bond engine, and he explains that he’ll be working remotely, monitoring everyone during preliminary missions Sterling himself had issued. The rest of their ragtag bunch are passed off like trading cards, a predetermined thing from the moment they agreed to help. Davenport says something about compatibility and predictions, but Merle stopped paying attention five minutes ago.

Lucretia, Barry, and Lup get sent to Sundabar on account of a noble elf insistent that his closest friend is still alive. Davenport tells them that this noble had reportedly killed this friend when she had grown increasingly destructive and erratic, symptoms of an old-timey villain in the making. There was no body to recover from the bottom of the cliff she'd fallen from, and so the victim’s mother had personally reached out to Sterling, who then contacted Davenport to find out the truth. Their parameters are simple: figure out what happened to Lady Zauviir, and, if she is still alive, ensure that she gets the help that she needs before more damage can be done.

Taako, Magnus, and Merle get sent to Phandalin.

“Why the _fuck_ am I not with Lup?” Taako asks, butting into Davenport’s debriefing of the Sundabar mission. “You know we’re a packaged deal so what’s your fucking deal with that, huh?”

Davenport, for the most part, breezes through the remainder of the debriefing before he acknowledges Taako. “Because Lucretia took classes in investigative journalism, Lup is the firepower to keep them safe, and Barry’s experience in The Necromancy field can help confirm whether the victim is alive or not.” Tossing a file to Magnus, he leans back against the table. “You three are going to Phandalin because Magnus is inviting enough that the entire city would rally to him, you’re brutal enough to do what’s necessary to succeed, and Merle… well, read the file and see for yourself.”

Merle takes one look at the first page and lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “You’re kidding.” Davenport looks down at his shoes, grim. Merle’s smile falls. The others watch, expectant and worried all at the same time. He clears his throat, eyes stinging. “We’re uh. We’re being sent after Gundren Rockseeker, who unearthed a dangerous relic and has been—sorry— has been terrorizing Phandalin for the past three weeks. Gundren’s my cousin.” He lowers the folder, blinking at the ceiling. “Shit.”

Davenport is looking at him, and it’s the most understanding and gentle look Merle’s seen from the guy in the pet thirty years. “I figured you’d know how to talk him down. Magnus and Taako, well… they’re for the chance that you can’t.”

Barry reaches over and rests a hand on Merle’s shoulder, squeezing gently. He smiles down at him, in that dorky way that has always been his own. Lup has a similar comforting expression, one that is absent in Taako’s face, and Lucretia nods her head at him in solidarity. Merle can’t see Magnus, but the fella’s probably vibrating from suppressing the urge to wrap him in a hug. Sighing, he meets Davenport’s eye like it’s some sort of personal challenge. It isn't, it never was, when it came to Dav, but Merle isn't going to back down now that he knows what he signed up for. “When do we leave?”

・・・★・・・

They all knew about the Starblaster before the Bond Engine. That is, they knew _of_ the Starblaster, in the same way that Taako and Lup claim to have known their parents; passing glimpses of photos and fleeting mentionings in conversations. Lucretia is the only one to have seen it in person, on account of her being Davenport’s studious unpaid intern. All she managed to tell them, in the two years it took for him to build it, was that it went faster than any vehicle she’s been in, battlewagon and airship included. 

Neither of them decided it was important to tell them that it looked like a goddamn fantasy Subaru Ascent. Merle, in his opinion, takes this fact in stride the day they left for Phandalin, only pausing for half a second before tossing his bag into the trunk and calling shotgun just short a hair before Lucretia moves to do the same. Magnus and Barry follow shortly after, but Taako and Lup stand there for a good two minutes, jaws dropped. Merle watches them in the side view mirror, sorting through his trail mix idly. “We’re not getting any older, here,” he calls out. Taako blinks, shaking his head.

“Well, _duh_ , any older and you’d drop dead on the floor, you geezer,” he shouts back, shoving his bag into the back and scrambling into the last available window seat. Lup elbows him in the face on her way over him to the middle seat, glowering at him the entire way. Barry sighs in the row ahead of them as they start making jabs at each other, resigned. Magnus takes any stray slaps and elbows in stride.

Davenport whistles sharp enough that they grimace, snapping apart. He looks pointedly at them in the rearview mirror, pulling his aviators down over his eyes. “Now, before we leave, everyone make sure you didn’t forget anything because I am _not_ turning around to come back, and--”

“—I have to pee.” Merle turns in his seat to look at Magnus, all the way in the third row. He, thankfully, has the sense to look ashamed. 

Davenport slams his head into the center of the wheel. It honks for the entire three minutes it takes to shuffle everyone enough to get Magnus out of the wagon. They put Barry in the back with Taako and Lup, on account that he’s the only one who seems to know how to handle them other than Merle. “Alright,” Davenport says, once Magnus buckles back in. Lucretia opens a book in her lap as he starts up “That’s it. We’re going, and we’re not going to turn around even if any of you are dying.”

・・・★・・・

“So help me _God_ I will turn this car around if you don’t cut it out right this second!” Lup and Taako are, predictably, squabbling in the back, arguing about who keeps touching who. It’s an argument for argument’s sake; Merle’s seen enough of them to know that personal boundaries don’t exist between them unless they will them into existence for drama’s sake. Lucretia and Magnus continue to watch a movie in the back, heads smashed together so they can share earbuds. Barry, unfortunately, seems to have forgotten his earbuds in his bag and has been enduring the twins’ bullshit for the past fifteen minutes. Taako slaps Lup’s shoulder, promptly ignoring Davenport’s outburst. “Merle, this is _literally_ your job, please get them to--”

“—Taako, Lup, I know you two don’t know how to express how much you’ll miss each other in words because of how much emotional baggage you’ve got, but can you both _please_ shut the hell up. I’m trying to read here.” This, thankfully, gets them to stop arguing, but from the yelp Lup lets out, they’re still playing the world’s most intense game of footsie.

“What, like you don’t have that memorized already? Pretty sure I’d be bleeding out and all you’d be able to do is spout the good word of Pan.” Taako reaches through the space between Magnus’s seat and the door to grab from the open bag of chips in his lap. He clears his throat. “‘Oh all-father of the earth, please grant this child the strength he needs to live on to see another day. But if you don’t feel like it, a six-pack of beer is also fine, whatever you think is best, not like I’m a professional cleric or anything. Amen.’”

“Amen,” Lup, Barry, and Davenport chorus in toneless unison.

Merle returns to his reading, grumbling about how they’re not exactly making him feel inclined to heal them in the future. Davenport pats his knee in faux sympathy, his mustache twitching in amusement and eyes trained on the horizon.

Traitors, the lot of them.

They stop at Sundabar first, since it’s on the way to Phandalin. Merle’s never really liked the place. Too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter, filled to the brim with high-society folks stuck in the medieval times. The only redeemable quality is the cliff, the bottom of which has wildflowers blooming sporadically, dotting the land in color. Davenport takes them up the road to the house of the supposed killer, an ancient villa that’s just dripping in gold. “Fucking noble elves,” Lup and Taako grumble in unison, glaring up at it. Merle nods in agreement. “Alright, we’ll check in later tonight, Davenport. Taako, don’t lose your fucking stone.” 

“I’m not the one you should be worrying about, dipshit.” 

“Fine. Taako, make sure _Magnus_ doesn’t lose his stone.”

Taako snorts, spreading himself out across the back row and saluting his sister over the back of the seats. “Got it. Don’t die.” Lup knocks his hand down, rolling her eyes. Lucretia talks to Davenport through his rolled-down window, nodding solemnly as he tells her to record as much as she can for him to send to Sterling after the fact. 

Merle watches Taako in the rearview mirror as they pull away. He’s propped up, now, watching his sister out of the back window with a hawk’s eye until they disappear from sight. With a huff, he collapses back into his seat and says, “Someone turn on the radio.”

He knows its bad when Taako doesn’t even react to the country that comes blaring out of the speakers, just keeps staring out the window. 

The rest of the ride to Phandalin is silent, save for the quiet rumble of music and conversation passing between Merle and Davenport. Occasionally, Magnus will join in, but he otherwise spends the ride reading through the debriefing folder. 

Out of the four of them, Merle’s the only one to have been to Phandalin previously, considering, well… most of the Rockseekers lived here. It’s not a bustling metro like Rockport or Neverwinter, despite being a large city. It’s rustic, a homey place with dirt sidewalks meant for horse riders and little bodegas here and there. Merle’s used to it being full to the brim with life and music. Instead, it’s empty, quiet enough that he half expects a tumbleweed to come barrelling across the street. Davenport winds the Starblaster as far as he can get it, puts it in park in front of a bar. “Alright,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “This is your stop. Any last questions?”

Taako leans forward. “Yeah, uh. Just to be sure, how much crime can we legally get away with?”

“Anything you don’t get caught for. Open murder of the key target is only acceptable if witnesses testify in your defense, or if it was self-defense. Anything else?”

“Can you see about Sterling getting us all weapons?” Magnus asks, hefting up his shitty old ax. It’s rusted in parts, barely holding onto the handle. “All I’ve got is this, from when I shadowed a professional adventurer my junior year.”

Davenport blinks, some sort of dawning horror crossing his face. He shakes his head, and it smooths back out into professional apathy. “I’ll look into it.”  
  


With that, they all make their way out of the Starblaster. Magnus grabs Merle’s bag for him while he cracks all of his bones, complaining to Davenport about old age. Taako had somehow passed his bag onto the big guy, too, and is busying himself by filing his nails as they watch Davenport turn around and speed off into the distance. “So,” he says, gesturing between them with the file, “we should split up for the next two months, cover as much territory as we can. At the end, we’ll meet back up here and compare our notes, see how we should deal with this. I’ll look into that gauntlet Davenport mentioned.”

“That's _literally_ how every horror movie starts, Taako,” Magnus says. Taako raises his brows at him, unimpressed. Magnus sighs, relenting. “But I don’t see a better way. Alright, you do the Gauntlet. I’ll look into the people, see if I can’t make enough contacts to find a way to ensure that we can get Gundren alive, or… well, you know. Merle, take the Phandalin churches. They’ve got to know something.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever, but when I come up dry I’m finding the rest of my family and figurin out how the hell they haven’t tried to stop him yet.” Merle grunts under the weight of his bag when Magnus hands it back to him. “We’re checking in once a week, making sure you two aren’t dead. Got it?”

“Got it.”

A month and a half and thirteen churches later finds Merle trucking it out to the fourteenth church in Phandalin, slapped in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, accessible only by a bus line that cut off a mile back. According to a High Priestess of the local temple of Oghma, it was one of the few temples to the Raven Queen that have managed to survive without relocating closer to civilization, if and only if in part due to the Mcallister family. She doesn’t know much about them, other than the fact that there’s only one member of the family left alive. “Such a shame,” she’d said, staring longwise out the window, “the plague took so many good folk.”

So far, only one or two temples had had anything of substance to provide-- namely a temple to Hestia and a temple to Touchdown Todd of all gods. The clerics at Hestia’s temple said that he’s been destroying buildings left and right for a while now, scaring all the people into their houses or other forms of shelter. When prompted, they noted that no one’s seen a Rockseeker that wasn’t Gundren for a month now.

Touchdown Todd’s single priest, Derek Taylor, told Merle that Gundren’s scared the mayor and anyone else with real power into hiding, giving him an iron fist of control over Phandalin. The streets weren’t just empty because everyone’s afraid, but because Gundren put a curfew in place. It wasn't announced publically, but the rest of Phandalin got the hint after he blew up some unfortunate fools that were just a few minutes past the curfew.

He’d gone to the temple of Oghma, after, and the high priestess had told him— after mentioning the Temple of the Raven Queen— that they would probably be able to tell him what happened to his family. Of all the temples, The Raven Queen seems to be the only deity still chatty in the midst of this mess.

It is also, fittingly enough, the only temple still holding open services. Merle comes huffing and puffing right at the tail end of one, all sorts of folks stumbling out of the doors laughing or crying. The temple itself is in a sorry sort of state nestled just near a forest and in desperate need of repairs, but gods typically don’t care much for those sorts of things. Inside, he finds a few people taking counseling with the high priestess, a Firbolg with blonde hair and blue eyes, and about in her second century from a glance. She nods along to something the worshippers say, letting the words sink in before she speaks again. If Merle had to make a guess, he wouldn’t be able to get a minute of her time right around now, so he does the best next thing and finds the nearest person.

Who is, unfortunately, a human man with dark skin that has been kneeling by the altar since Merle came in, his head bowed. As he approaches, he catches the tail end of a personal prayer asking for guidance, one that ends the moment he comes to stand at his side. Slowly, the man lowers his hands and looks up at him with unfocused eyes that seem to glow golden under the glare of his glasses. He’s unassuming, other than his eyes and the haunted way that he carries himself. If Merle didn't already know to not judge by appearance, he'd tell you this kid looked like he'd never hurt a fly. “You’re not from here,” he says, voice rough and stumbling through every syllable or two. He glances at the High Priestess after a good half-minute of awkward staring and throws his head back with a groan. “Fuck, yeah, she’ll be there for hours. Take a seat. I’m not a priest for the temple if that’s what you’re looking for—”

“—I’m just looking for people who know what’s going on with Gundren Rockseeker.” The man stiffens, a primal sort of fear sparking through his body. He presses his palm flat against his chest, taking a steadying breath. Merle mostly pretends he doesn’t see it. “See, Gundren’s, uh… Well, he’s my cousin, to put it simply, but that ain’t why I’m here. I’ve been sent here on account of Lord Artemis Sterling’s vested interest in helping Phandalin, but we don’t know much about what’s going on. More specifically, I want to know why the rest of my _family_ hasn’t put a stop to this. We aren’t… evil isn’t in our memo. For fuck's sake, I’m a high school counselor! The evilest thing I ever did was give a kid detention for vaping in front of me! And that kid was a _dick_!”

The man lets out a forced laugh, scratching his cheek. “I don’t, uh. I don’t know much. I’ve been out of town for the past two years. Hell, I just got back three months ago, so I doubt there’s much I can say to help you figure out what went wrong considering I can’t even…” He snaps, posture straightening. He doesn’t look giddy, or even remotely close to excited, but he seems almost relieved to have something to do. “But I _can_ help you figure out what happened to the rest of his—er— _your_ family. High Priestess Vika, I need to borrow the scrying bowl for a moment.”

“If you forget to clean it after I'll lock you out, and that _is_ a threat. I don't care how blessed you are; the bowl's worth more than you are.” High Priestess Vika says this without looking away from the worshippers, who are both unconcerned and unbothered by the brief interruption slash casual threatening. The man leads him up the steps to the cabinet behind the altar, rummaging through it and muttering to himself. He makes a noise in the back of his throat before hauling an obsidian and sapphire scrying bowl out and hefting it onto the altar. 

“Keep in mind I’m not a professional,” he says as he dumps a good quarter of a jug of water into the bowl. “But I do know what I’m doing. Kinda. Uh. Vika lets me do it anyway because it works even if I fuck it up, is what I mean. And with this whole mess… I’m helping where I can. Give me your hand?”

Merle absolutely, one hundred percent does not trust this kid.

He gives him his hand anyway. Because he’s dumb like that.

He pulls a needle out, pricking the pad of his thumb with the expertise of an amateur embroiderer. Squeezing the exposed puncture, he adjusts his glasses with his free hand as blood drips into the basin of the bowl. Merle sucks on it while the man leans over it, murmuring under his breath and running his hands across the side of the bowl. “This won’t tell me directly what happened to them,” he explains after he stops talking to himself, “but if they’re dead, the Raven Queen will send a sign. That’s how she communicates to the church.”

“So, uh. How do we find that sign?” Merle asks, squinting at his thumb as if that’ll stop it from bleeding.

A raven perches on an open window, cawing. The stranger goes towards it. “We wait for that.” Once underneath the raven, he holds his hand out for a small white thing, which it drops from a talon. He holds it up to the light as Merle approaches, slowly turning over a rodent’s bones. At a glance, the stranger seems almost sick at the sight of them, skin turned ashen. “This can’t be right. High Priestess—”

Vika sighs, and apologizes to the worshippers, who then stalk out of the temple. “When has she ever been wrong in her signs?” She asks, peering over his shoulder to the bones. “Especially when you are the one requesting them. Even more so that a cleric of Pan is at your side.”

“Sir,” the stranger begins, before making a strangled noise and pausing. “Your, uh. It appears that they’ve died.”

“All of them?”

“There would still be sinew or flesh on the bones if there were any survivors. I’m sorry.” And here’s the thing? He _is_ sorry. There isn’t pity, no ‘oh dear, they’re in a better place now’. There’s just pure sincerity in the way that he speaks, this haunted stranger that’s close enough to the high priestess that she lets him use valuable relics. The way that this stranger apologizes for his loss says ‘This sucks, but it won’t change, trust me, so you’d better start moving forward now’. 

Merle leaves the temple without thanking him.

He calls Taako and Merle that night when he returns to his hotel room. “So, found out why Cyrus didn’t beat the shit out of his kid,” Merle says, and the silence hangs heavy on their end of the call. From the distant scratching of pen on paper, Taako’s probably writing down some more notes. 

“Yeah, yeah, I found out too,” Taako says distantly before Merle can elaborate. “Also found their bodies, performed an autopsy to see how they died. But I’m still looking into that gauntlet, it’s pretty—”

“—They _died_? What the fuc—”

“—How’d they go out.” Taako stops writing, on his end, and Merle hears him curse under his breath. Any other circumstance, he would’ve mocked Taako for his carelessness concerning other people and the things they love, but Merle can’t bring himself to do much other than find out what horrible end his family reached.

And he tells them what he’s concluded so far. The Rockseekers went back to an old mine passed down from Cyrus’s father to try and find any way to bring their name back into people's mouths and came across a vault with the gauntlet. Taako deduced that he had used a silverpoint-laced dagger on them, but not why.

Silverpoint was fatal even in a paper cut. “And I’ve _almost_ figured out how the gauntlet works, why it was so important Gundren killed his whole family, but I just need more time. Give me, like, another three months, tops.”

When Merle sighs, he about feels his age. He could sleep for days by this point, and then it wouldn’t matter how long Taako took. “Yeah, sure.” Taako returns to writing. “Magnus, how are things on your end?”

“Met a girl named Killian that’s been trying to take out Gundren for a few months now, she also tried to kill me with her robot, but it’s fine! We’re cool now. She’s on our side. I think.” There’s low chatter on his end, silverware scraping against plates. the sounds of a restaurant near closing. “Most of the folks here want Gundren gone one way or another, so it’s easy to get them on our side. Much less to, ah… get them in one room and agreeing with each other. I’m _so_ not cut out for this whole ‘organizing a people’s militia’ thing.”

Merle chuckles leaning his weary head against his pillow. “You’ll get the hang of it, kid. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

・・・★・・・

Three months later find the three of them back in front of the bar. The street is, predictably, still empty, and half of the block has been reduced to rubble. Magnus tells them that he knows a better place to be, and sets off towards the center of town. Taako and Merle follow, taking turns drinking from a paper bag-covered bottle Taako’d brought with him. “How’s Lup?” He asks, wincing at the burn of bourbon down his throat.

Taako shrugs, looking down at the floor. “It’s been going a lot slower than ours. They’ve teamed up with the killer, some golden retriever of an elf named Thrace, because once he heard there was a chance she went to the Underdark he’d set himself on going with or without their help.” He drains a quarter of the bottle in one go. “The Underdark would’ve eaten him alive alone. Almost ate _us_ , the two fucking days we were there.”

So the others aren’t doing great. “But they think this girl’s alive?” At Taako’s nod, Merle grimaces. “Yeesh, Dav should’ve swapped me and Barry, in that case. Poor kid’s got trauma coming out her ass, probably coulda used some on the spot counseling.”

There are some streets where there’s only part of a building left unscathed. The fire doesn’t always destroy, Merle had learned, but it still spreads rapidly and unpredictably, taking memories from homes faster than the rate at which you could save them. Some people got lucky, and only lost a few things. Others lost centuries worth of photos and keepsakes. Taako was one of the lucky ones; the bed and breakfast he’d scoped out got destroyed a month back, but he was able to get out with his research and his luggage. 

Magnus had seen the worst of it, from what he’d told Merle. He’d found people who lost family, lost entire livelihoods, and helped where he could. Compared to Taako, he’s a downright ray of sunshine, still smiling and talking as if half of Phandalin isn’t rubble, as if he wasn’t the only person to actually _see_ Gundren in action the past five months. “Tell me what you’ve got on the gauntlet,” Magnus says, squinting at an open bar in the distance. “All anyone in Phandalin knows about it is that it packs a serious punch, and almost everyone’s willing to help us if it means taking him down.”

Taako laughs, a hollow, joyless sound. “No shit. They, uh, they call it the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet. It’s part of this ancient group of relics that the world thought lost forever, but, well. Obviously the're not, or we wouldn't be here. Anyway, they’re intended to drive men mad either with it on or for the prospect of _having_ it. This gauntlet’s both, with the cost of your life by the end of it. From the other times I’ve seen it used in history and documented, it’s always someone who wants to win a war, but Gundren isn’t fighting a war, so…”

Magnus stops in front of the bar, turning sharply to Taako. “He’s trying to start one.” 

Just their shitty luck. Merle’s shoulders drop with a sudden exhausted resignation, shaking his head. “So we still try and talk him down,” he says, and even as he’s saying it he knows he’s just trying to fool himself into believing what he says. Magnus rests one of his hands on him, waiting patiently for Merle to finish speaking before he can go on one of those earnest pep talks of his. “Get him into Sterling’s custody. If not, then I guess it’s outta my hands.”

“It’s not. Merle, I give you my word that we’re going to do everything we can to bring Gundren in—”

Behind Magnus, a halfling woman goes crashing through the window of the bar. Merle turns just in time to see her slam into the second floor of the building across the street. An orc woman comes running out through the front door after her, a crossbow raised in preparation of attack. “Magnus,” she says with a hint of relief, “You brought some backup.”

  
“Killian, what the _hell_ was that?” Magnus pulls his ax off of his back, taking a few steps towards the shattered window before Killian pulls him back abruptly by his shoulder. A pit of dread settles in the bottom of Merle’s stomach as he tastes smoke on the air and watches, detached, as realization dawns on Magnus’s face. He opens his mouth to say something, right as an enraged shout reverberates out to the entire street, shaking stones from the roads.

The explosion that follows sends Merle right off his feet. They’re all too close to the source as it is, but Merle hadn’t thought past trying to figure out what Magnus was going to say. His back hits the road, shooting pain through his back and taking the breath sharply from his lungs. As he heaves, gasping for breath, he inhales the overwhelming stench of smoke and death. In the chaos, his glasses had gotten knocked off, sent flying or destroyed by the flames, and his eyes water as he tries to recover some semblance of vision. For the most part, it’s just shapes. He can see a vague blue and red figure push themselves up and start coughing, and that’s all he needs to confirm that Taako’s still alive. 

Ears ringing, Merle hears Gundren yelling at someone— Magnus, probably— about getting rid of those ‘damn orcs’. The vague shape of Taako shakily pushes himself up to his feet, and Merle follows suit. “You’re going to _die_ if you don’t take the gauntlet off!” Magnus is shouting from somewhere in the smoke and rubble of the bar. Gundren is easier to spot, an inferno of fire dripping off of him and consuming the air surrounding him. He’d look pretty badass if Merle wasn’t currently pissing his pants at the prospect of fighting him. “Is that hate really worth losing your life for?”

Taako stiffens when Merle wraps an arm around his hip, but relaxes and lets him support his weight. Now that he’s up close, he can tell that Taako’s nursing a broken arm and his left eye squints like it’ll bruise later. A glance finds the rest of the town square completely demolished; no building is left upright. Briefly, Merle wonders whether or not that human from earlier was still alive. They find Killian a few feet away from where they were originally standing, a hand pressed to her ribs and eyes wild. “I’m gonna kill that sunuva bitch,” she hisses, glancing at Merle and Taako. She takes a breath and winces, before continuing. “I’m gonna kill that orc-hating sunuva bitch if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda inclined to agree with you, lady." Taako wheezes, leaning against the wall Merle leads him to. “But Merle wants him alive, so we gotta try this first. Yeah, I know.”

“Gundren!” Merle shouts, his breath coming out scratchy and raw. _God_ , he’d kill for some water right around now. “You gotta control it! This— This ain’t you, bud!” 

“I’ve never felt more like myself!” Says the flaming dwarf. Because that’s what people who are totally in control say, while on fire. Yup, totally normal. So Merle sighs, because, well, shit, they’ve come this far, and starts closer towards his cousin. 

“Sure, Gundren, but just think about it. Would Aunt Blarg have wanted this for you? Would the rest of your family, God rest their souls, want you to dedicate the rest of your life to this hate? I think you and I both know that this— this blind anger— it isn’t you, and you don’t have to fight for control over this gauntlet alone.” Gundren’s hair is entirely made of fire, beard included. Underneath, there doesn’t seem to be much left other than his skull. But the glare in his eyes has settled, and the flames stop whipping around wildly. “Just settle down and we can figure out how to make this right. You know, even now, it ain’t too late to fix what you did.”

The fire dies out, the longer Merle keeps talking. “But I— I don’t—” Gundren looks so small, without his imposing fires, exhausted in a way he’d never seen him. It’s the sort of exhaustion that Merle’s only seen in kids that have reached their limit, stretched too thin in all directions. “—I don’t know how.”

“Well, I got a friend that’s been looking into this thing’a yours, I’m sure he can figure out something for you.” Merle’s legs shake, the longer he stands, but he doesn’t try and sit down in any of the destroyed chairs strewn across the street. The flicker of hope in his chest is squashed by the frantic panic to bring his cousin back safe. Pan help him, even if he’d killed his father and brothers, that doesn’t mean that his life ends _here_. “I’m sure you’re pretty tired from all that raging you’ve been doing. How about you sit down a spell, and then we can go from there.”

“Yeah, I, uh. God, how long has it _been_?” Gundren mumbles to himself, squinting down at the floor before looking up at Merle, distressed. “Merle, how long have I been this?”

A flash of light, something glaring in the burning midday sun across the town square, followed by the whistling of an arrow. Merle doesn’t have time to react to it because, right as he hears it being fired, he sees it pierce straight through Gundren’s exposed neck. Merle throws himself back just in time to narrowly avoid Gundren when he goes nuclear again, yelling and gurgling as the inferno evaporates his blood. Frozen, they can only watch as the fire eats through his skin and bones. 

By the time the gauntlet’s done with him, Gundren is a petrified statue, hands gripping the place where the arrow once was. Taako stumbles in, whistling, and pulls out his stone to take a photo. Magnus and Killian blink at Gundren’s corpse owlishly. The entire street is silent, ominously so, and for a harrowing moment, they forget that this entire town square wasn’t once alive and bustling, full of people and birds singing to the sky. 

Merle is the only one that doesn't forget, and he’s just so fucking tired. He lets out a heaving sigh and spots his glasses in the rubble, broken. He dusts them off and puts them back on.

Across the street, on top of the rubble of a now nameless second story building, Merle sees a pale halfling woman covered in freckles lower a compound bow, her red hair wild and bursting free from a messy braid. There are tear tracks down her face and blood dripping from her nose, lip pulled back into a snarl. In an act that would otherwise haunt Phandalin citizens for years after, she screeches, “That was for the Redcheeks, you family killing piece of shit!”

They stand, mystified, as silence weighs heavy following her furious declaration.

Then Taako raises a brow up at her. “Good aim!” He shouts back, hands cupped around his mouth. “Anyone happen to catch her first name in that whole badass deal? Cause I still got fuckin tinnitus.”

“Noelle Redcheek,” Killian grouses, wincing as she shifts her torso the wrong way. “If you need it, she’s a registered Barbarian.”

Taako pulls out his stone, typing frantically onto it. “Oh, nah, we probably won’t.” He glances up to Merle. “Davenport says he’ll be by tomorrow night to pick us up and to tell you that he’s going to call you later today.”

“You think any of the pizza places here are still open?” Magnus asks, dazed and seemingly on the brink of a mental breakdown. He’s uninjured, other than a bleeding gash on his eyebrow. Merle pats him on his thigh.

“Only one way to find out, bud.” He could go for pizza. Or any food that’s capable of making him feel a little bit of something at this rate. He wipes at his eyes, nudging his broken glasses off his face in the process. Noelle comes limping across the plaza, bow slung loosely in her hands. “Taako, hurry the hell up so we can go eat. Killian, crazy lady, you coming with?”

“I could eat.” 

Taako pockets his stone and pulls the gauntlet off of Gundren. His hand comes off with it. The rest of him crumbles to ash until all that’s left is that _fucking_ gauntlet.

Merle tries not to cry.

But it’s close.

It’s real fuckin close. 

・・・★・・・

_Report for Mission Sundabar (Success with no losses)_

_  
__Lord Sterling,_

_Lady Zauviir has been recovered. She is alive, if horrifically scarred, and initially wanted nothing to do with us. Lup managed to get her to not run off on us, and Lord Thrace initiated a conversation that convinced her to come home but did not get her to see the error of her ways. We eventually got her to see a therapist (a mission in of itself) as well as attend physio for the damage she endured by Thrace’s hand, but remains wholly volatile and almost rightly so, considering all that she has undergone. We suggest that you officially name her a Knight and Savior of Sundabar, on the grounds that she stood with Lord Thrace when Sundabar was besieged by a deranged Dracolich. You have given Thrace the Savior title under the same qualifications._

_Barry Bluejeans has emerged from this mission the most critically injured, though he insists it is ‘just a scratch’. He is currently at Sundabar Medical Facility as we await his release and our extraction._

_Signed, Lucretia, Lup, and Barry._

_Report For Mission Phandalin (Partial success)_

_Dear Lord Sterling,_

_Whoopsie, our bad._

_Sincerely, Taako, Magnus, and Merle_

_Featuring sweet flips by Killian and Noelle_

**_We’re not sending this._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back on my bullshit!!! Woohoo!!! While writing what I will now be referring to as the ["Istus fic"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19868446/chapters/47053087), I ended up fully developing the ten years that Taako tells Kravitz he spent adventuring, as well as worshipping a few fun little one-shots for this AU, so I decided I was just going to go ahead and actually write/publish them since I'm in quarantine lmao. As always, Thank you for reading (and if you're new to this series, thank you for hopping in, I love you), and don't forget to check the series every once in a while for little spur of the moment updates!


End file.
